


our own little love story

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, can you tell i don't usually write fluff?, i think?? i dunno, i wrote this in like ten minutes give me a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: a little fwt fluff snippet because they will never stop toying with our hearts on twitter
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 119
Collections: Fanfic Anonymous





	our own little love story

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this is so short i am not a very experienced fic writer

“George  _ no _ , I’m not gonna do that!” someone practically yells, drowning out the sound of the bell over the door. Fundy doesn’t pay them any mind, continuing his wipedown of the back counter, and mentally counting down their steps from the door to the counter.

The coffee shop is small, too small in Fundy’s opinion, but the customer still takes long enough that Fundy’s rewiping things just to stall from having to face them.

“Uh-” finally comes, and Fundy snaps his attention to them without really looking.

“Welcome to L’Manberg Coffee, what can I get you?” he rattles off, scrounging around in his apron for a pen. Silence is his response.

Fundy glances up, partially from confusion, partially from impatience, to find a (pretty) man around his age stood stock still in front of the counter. A fierce blush has swept over the man’s features, (pretty, green) eyes locked directly on Fundy’s face.

“Um,” Fundy starts, and the man snaps out of his daze.

“Sorry, sorry,” the man says, hurriedly shoving his hands in his pockets, and fixing his gaze at a point on the wall directly behind Fundy’s ear. “Just a coffee, thanks.”

“Mhmm,” Fundy hums, determinedly ignoring the fuzzy feeling that’s building in his stomach. Working hours, Fundy.

He  _ maybe _ takes extra care in preparing the man’s drink (not because he messed his first attempt up because he got distracted watching him tap away at his phone in the corner,  _ nope _ ) and  _ maybe _ scribbles his name and number on the side (Wilbur’s hatred of nametags had seeped deep into the runnings of the shop) but that’s no one’s business but his own.

And if when the man runs back in and slams a napkin down on the counter with his own name (Dream), and a quick doodle of a heart, it makes him blush for an obscenely long amount of time? Niki’s out on break, and Fundy doesn’t have to tell her anything.

**Author's Note:**

> 💗 💗 💗  
> this was written for clairedreems on tumblr! she's very cool! (you should go follow her)


End file.
